Another Night in Paradise
by Kristen999
Summary: A Post Tag for 4x4. What happens when Nick let's go of the wall of emotions after another grueling case.


Title: Another Night In Paradise

Author: Kristen999

Category: Angst/ Romance

Spoilers: "Compulsion" and "4x4"

Disclaimer: All rights belong to CBS and all their fine writers. Please don't sue. This is just for fun.

Summary: A Post Tag for "4x4". What happens when Nick let's go of the wall of emotions after another grueling case.

Archive: Go ahead. Just let me know.

Notes: All right. Don't know where this came from. This is my first M rated story so I'm a bit scared, but this is what my muse wanted. I'm really curious to your thoughts so any feedback is helpful. This is not betaed, so be warned.

And you guys thought this was another chapter of POF. Sorry!

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Nick slammed his front door close, the vibration rattling a few of his pictures that hung to the wall. He flung his jacket onto one of the cushions of his sofa, and tossed his keys onto an endtable. He stalked into his kitchen, swung open his fridge and pulled out a six pack of beer. Nick carried the beverages with him as he sank into the couch wearily. He squeezed his eyes shut and stifled a strangled sob from his throat. He gulped, shaking his head and undid the first cap of his beer and chugged it down like he did in his college days. 

With the first one gone, he started on his second, finishing half the bottle in a few quick swigs. The Heineken burned down his throat slightly, and he felt it settle in his empty stomach. Nick whirled the bottle around as the image of another young boy raged in his mind.

Wasn't it just a few weeks ago that another young child had been beaten to death by his own brother, just because he couldn't take being teased for wetting the bed, he thought.

The CSI rubbed his tongue along the inside of his teeth...dead children. You never got used to, and he prayed he'd never would. A breath hitched in his chest again, and he swallowed the rest of the contents of the second bottle, slamming it down on his coffee table. Nick clasped both his hands around his face, holding his head for a long time.

The criminalist saw himself back in the morgue, his hands gently stroking the boy's hair. He stared at the face trying to conjure an image in his head of what the little boy might have looked like with a glee in his eyes, a smile on his face. Alive and running the bases of a baseball diamond, perhaps. He had remained hunched over the slab for several minutes, trying to keep his turbulent emotions in check and stay focused on the case. He had pushed the fire down that burned in his chest, kept his arms from trembling with uncontrolled rage.

Nick wasn't at the lab now, he was home...alone. He popped open the his third beer and drank it down just as quickly as the first, his stomach still churning from the previous two. His chest felt like it was fire, his emotions were now uncorked, and instead of depositing the now empty bottle down, he stood up suddenly, and hoisted the bottle towards a wall. It crashed, shattering into pieces, sharp glass was strewn all over his floor.

Cursing in his head, and voicing a string of profanities, he stalked over to try to clean up the mess. Nick grabbed a small wastebasket and started picking up the bigger pieces. He reached for a large chard, and it sliced open his palm. Blood dripped down onto his carpet.

"Godamn it!"

He let go of the glass, thinking that tomorrow would be a better day to try to clean it up. Instead he stared at his hand. The cut was somewhat deep. He balled up his hand, concentrating on the pain, something else to focus on instead of the dead faces of children.

Kids were supposed to be safe in their own homes. Being looked after by their loving parents. They were not supposed to be in danger in their own beds by siblings who could not control their own rage, and by playmates who didn't invoke enough common sense not to stuff their buddy into a dryer. It would have been easier to stare into the eyes of cold blooded murderer then to comprehend what had transpired from these two separate cases.

There are no safe places to be anymore. Nick stood motionless in his living room, thinking back to the supposed sanctuary of the home, the protection of your own bedroom. He bit his lip, not allowing his thoughts to drift..._there._ Not right now.

Nick headed towards his kitchen, and searched for anything to wrap his hand up with. The criminalist made a clicking noise with his teeth, and spotted a dish towel. His laughed at himself. This wasn't the most sterile thing in the world, but he just didn't really care right now. He swiped it, and wrapped it around his bleeding hand several times and squeezed the fabric hard.

Nick turned around quickly and almost feel forward, he laughed outloud...his voice sounded so weird to his ears. His buzz was hitting him hard now, having downed half a six pack in almost five minutes without eating dinner. Finding the whole idea quite amusing, he sauntered back to his living room and began to drink his fourth bottle.

'In for a penny, in for a pound,' he thought. No, that wasn't the correct phrase, but his mind was a bit fuzzy about now. He leaned his head back, allowing his body to go numb. All he wanted to do was turn off his brain, to click the little switch that allowed him to feel, to experience any amount of emotion right now. There was an overwhelming sense of dread and despair filling his entire being. It was as if an iron fist was squeezing his heart and it hurt so damned much.

The cases, they continued to pile up, lifeless faces, bloodied bodies. It was like an avalanche crashing in on him. He couldn't protect them...he could only bring justice...only bare witness to grieving parents.

The sobs of Chase's mother filled his ears. Her hysteria, the father's anger towards the sister. It was too much. He felt the barrier crumbling. Nick squeezed his injured hand, digging his finger tips into the fuzzy cotton. The CSI felt the breakdown coming, and hugged himself fiercely. Afraid to let go as he sobbed uncontrollably. Nick wiped at the wetness on his face with the edge of his sleeve, he was so damn weak.

He was pathetic. Nick snatched a fifth bottle of beer and twisted off the top. He started gulping it down, not really tasting the bitter liquid. The criminalist was near the bottom when he heard a knock at his door.

Nick sat there numbly ignoring the persistent rap on his door. Maybe whoever it was would simply go away. Who the hell wanted to talk to him anyhow? Several minutes ticked by and the knocking became more like a pounding.

His despair morphed into annoyance and shouted at the closed door.

"Go away!" His twang was so heavy to his own ears.

"Nick?" A muffled female voice could be heard outside.

"Nick, are you okay?"

The man in question, groaned inwardly at the prospect of company right now.

He dragged his now exhausted body from the comfort of his sofa and staggered to the door. He undid the deadbolt, and swung it open wildly.

Catherine Willows jumped slightly from the action, her eyes scanning the man who leaned on the doorjamb. The female CSI sniffed loudly and leaned in closer towards the sulking man, studying him.

"You reek of alcohol," she said matter of faculty.

Nick allowed a large grin to spread over his features. "Great observation," he snarled.

Catherine eyed him suspiciously. "You're drunk."

Nick peeled himself from the doorframe and saluted her. "Right again Madame. Now if you'd excuse me, I'd like to finish what I stared."

The CSI stumbled back to his living room, leaving his door open and Catherine standing there somewhat shocked. She closed the door, and followed him to his couch. He was now slumped back into his seat and was trying to grab another bottle of beer, and missing it several times, only grasping at air. After several attempts his fingers slide around the neck.

Catherine raised an eyebrow at the sad display of coordination, and jerked the beer from the younger man's tenuous grasp.

Nick glared at her. "That's mine."

Catherine looked over at her coworker of so many years, the pain the etched his features tugged at her heart. The usual easy smile that was such a trademark of his charm was replaced by a straight thin line and those deep brown eyes were filled with despair. Instead of chastising him for drowning his sorrow in beer; she tipped the bottle to her mouth and drank part of it down.

The anger that radiated from the man in front of her seemed to dissipate briefly, a quiet chuckle escaped. "I'll go get more."

Nick strode into his kitchen and grabbed a few more bottles. There had been a sale on multiple six packs a few weeks ago, and he had stocked up. He returned with several more and lined them up on his coffee table. The CSI set a second one in front of his guest and he twisted his own cap, and flung it towards the wall where the remains of the other one had impacted earlier.

Catherine continued sipping on her beverage and surveyed the shattered remains of one of Nick's drinks. She nodded towards the broken glass, "I guess throwing beer bottles is better that knocking holes in your wall."

Nick gave her a slight grin. "My own brand of therapy."

Nick's accent was heavier, his drawl always kicked in when he was stressed out, or in an intense situation. "I heard you had a rough case. Dead little boy."

Nick shook his head, his body was nice and warm, the tingling was causing him to forget what drove him to his near stupor. He was so close to becoming numb. The images were out of his head, but his chest was still so heavy. "Kids killin kids." His voice cracked.

He groaned inwardly, the beer was talking. It wasn't really his way to open up to anyone.

Catherine finished her drink and started at her second one. The past few months had been stressful for them all. A switch in shifts, the split up of the team, resentment, butting heads and freaking politics. She shouldn't encourage Nick towards this type of unwinding, but it felt good sitting here, being a sympathetic ear. Nick didn't unload very often, maybe this would be the only type of situation in which he could unburden himself. The man held so much in, she thought sadly.

"I read your report. Its tough dealing with these type of cases, so close together." Catherine kept her tone neutral.

Nick held his beer in loose fingers, he didn't have the energy to place it to his lips. "Its so hard Cath," he whispered.

Catherine had to strain to hear his words, they were spoken in a strangled sob.

She went to grab his hand when she noticed his right one was bandaged with a washcloth. Catherine grabbed his wrist and turned his hand up, "Nicky, what did you do?"

Nick had been staring into nothingness, when he felt her prodding his injured palm. She was undoing his sloppy ministrations from earlier. He heard her sigh, but he was too caught up in his gloom.

Catherine was dismayed at the ugly cut, it was deep, it might even need stitches. She would never get the bullheaded man to go to the ER, so she would have to make do herself. "Nick you got a first aid kit?"

The criminalist nodded absently.

"Where is it?"

"Second cupboard, in the kitchen." Nick replied. He looked at his hand and furrowed his brow. He didn't feel any pain, no burning, no discomfort.

Catherine was back in front of him, scooting him over. "Give me so room, will ya?" She complained.

Catherine cleaned the cut with some antiseptic, and tapped a clean bandage to his hand. She dumped the ruined washcloth into his wastebasket. Nick had been silent as she tended to him. She sat back down and after a brief moment of contemplation, removed the beer bottle that he had not finished, that still hung loosely in his grasp.

Catherine held his hand and rubbed her fingers over his knuckles. She gave him a gentle squeeze and wrapped her arm around his broad shoulders and moved him towards her. Nick resisted for a second, but with a little urgency she held him in a gentle hug.

Nick allowed himself to be brought into an embrace, he rested his head on her shoulder and draped his arms around her. Catherine traced her fingers along his back in a soothing pattern. The human contact brought him out of his brooding and his wall lifted over so slightly and he allowed himself to cry for several minutes.

Catherine held onto him as she felt him let go of so many stored up grief and turmoil. He sobbed quietly, his body shaking ever so slightly. She felt such sympathy and compassion, that she held onto him tighter, not letting him go till she felt he was ready. Several minutes ticked by as he continued to unload his burdens. She used her thumbs to dig into the muscles between his shoulder blades. His back was felt taunt with so much bent up tension.

"I'm sorry Cath," he mumbled as he withdrew from the hug.

Nick rubbed at his eyes with the end of his sleeve, slightly embarrassed at his actions. He slide his hand in the Catherine's smaller one, and rubbed his thumb along her wrist. "Thank you," he said in a low, slightly choked voice.

Catherine smiled, and took his chin in her hand and tilted his head at her. She wanted to make sure that he was making eye contact with her and not drifting back into another void. "No need to apologize Nick. I just want to make sure you're okay."

Catherine had come by Nick's house with only concern for his well being. When she saw him alone and dejected she had only wanted to comfort him. The case had inflicted another toll on the CSI and he would recover, but it was always a slow healing process. She traced her fingers along his strong jawline, and moved them into his hair. She smooth down a few strands and brought his head close to her chest. Catherine felt his defeat, a literal collapse of emotions.

She stroked his cheek and brought their faces closer together. Two sets of eyes that longed for a connection, stared at each other. She brought her lips to his and they shared a gentle kiss. Suddenly their eyes met in a mixture of disbelief and desire.

Nick pulled back and waited. Catherine closed her eyes, taking a deep breath as if she could not believe what was happening.

"Nick..." She gripped both of his shoulders as he leaned forward and kissed her again. She felt his breath hot on her face and she let him in. His tongue explored her mouth as and slipped in and out to kiss her.

His eyes closed tightly, Nick felt her tongue lightly caress his bottom lip, as she returned his passion double fold. He could not contain a sudden urge and toyed with the buttons of her blouse. Keeping it slow to make sure this was the desired course of action; he was delighted when she reciprocated. She grabbed at his T-shirt and pulled it from his pants.

Catherine gazed at Nick, his face was flushed and venerable looking. His expression only served to fuel her with the desire to complete him, if just for one night. She stared at his dark eyes and let herself get lost in them. Their lips meet again and with a swift motion he lifted her up and both of them retreated into his bedroom.

Nick felt a frenzy he had not experienced in a long time. Nick gently kissed along her face as she peered above him. It was quite a turn on to see her over him, in a position of control.

Catherine had followed him into his bed with intensity, she pushed him down and straddled him. Catherine ran her hands all over his red T-shirt, imagining the muscles that were hidden from view. Nick ran his hands up and down her back as she proceeded to run her tongue along the side of his neck just beneath his shirt collar. She alternated between sucking and planting kisses, sending shivers along his spine.

Desire, warmth, longing... he was feeling once again.

Nick being ever the gentlemen, paused, "Cath, you don't' have to do this...if..."

She placed her finger along his lips to silence him. As much as she adored that heavy, sultry accent, now was not the time for talking. He pulled her close, causing the bed to creak slightly, causing them both to laugh. Nick placed his mouth along her collarbone and licked the sensitive skin, eliciting a low moan from her.

Catherine sat up slowly, staring at his tight T-shirt. Smiling coyly she said something to him that she always desired. "That shirt needs to come off."

Nick grinned, his smile was infectious. He peeled his shirt away, and pulled it above his head, tossing it to the floor. Catherine stared at his chiseled chest, her eyes gazing up and down his well toned arms. She had felt his muscles before, when he flexed them for her, they had been tight and hard under her finger tips. Now she got to see whole package, he was certainly in shape. He was not overly massive, but he had beefed up his lean frame over the past year.

Nick had noticed that Catherine's blouse still remained on and that just could not do. He easily removed it, revealing a black silky bra. She caressed his face and let her hands slip into his hair. "I'm glad this has grown back."

He answered her, buy undoing the clasp in the front of her bra instead of the back revealing her ample breasts. He took careful attention to each one of them, with his fingers and tongue. He smiled at her reactions, and continued to play with their sensitivity.

A smile spread across her face as Catherine realized how much his body was excited by the situation. Unable to control her passion, Catherine fumbled with the buckle to his jeans and quickly pulled the zipper down.

She struggled with sliding them away. "I knew you wore these too night," she mumbled. He helped her with removing them, now glad in only his boxers.

Grinning, Nick flipped her over onto her back. "You're turn," he whispered. She gazed at him peering down on her, and he grinned a huge smile. "Got to get...ah..some protection."

"I'll be here," Catherine replied as he fumbled with a drawer to his nightstand.

Nick quickly returned. Knowing it was her turn, she let Nick trace her bare skin along her sides as he unbuttoned her pants and unable to control her anticipation she slide them off. There were only one layer of clothing separating the two of them. Catherine wanted to be a part of him so badly, the need to fill him with pleasure was overwhelming. She wanted to fill those haunted eyes with something else.

The last layers of clothes came off in a mass of passion and desire. Their lovemaking was fueled by so many emotions, on varying levels. They slide their hands over each other, caressing bare skin, only increased their tempo, and reactions. After what seemed like forever, both of them lay next to each other, completely satisfied. Both breathed deeply, their energy extinguished.

Catherine rolled over on top of Nick's chest and stared into his eyes. Nothing was said; there was no need for talk. Nick wrapped his arms around her and simply breathed and engrained this moment in his memory.

Nick knew that sometimes you just accepted the hand that life dealt you, because in the end it was the simple acts of kindness and friendship that made it all worthwhile. Nick closed his eyes and allowed himself a moment of peace.

The End.


End file.
